Memory
by bkwrm523
Summary: When Kyrie woke up in an inn in Caladon, her lack of memories was about to become the least of her problems.


Author's Note: this is a walkthrough fic of the game "Arcanum: Of Steamworks and Magic Obscura", and contains major spoilers for the game. If you have not finished the game and intend to, please do not read to avoid spoilers.

Kyrie nervously shifted a lock of flame-red hair behind her ears, and resisted the urge to fidget. A part of her still wondered what she was doing on the IFS Zephyr. Hell, all of her wondered what she was doing on the ship. She'd woken up that morning in an inn in Caladon, her room neither the cheapest nor the most expensive, with no memories. All she'd had were her clothes, a dress, a decent supply of gold, and a ticket for the Zephyr. She'd questioned the innkeeper, naturally, but the gnome running the place had been singularly incurious, and all she'd learned from him was her name. No leads, save for the ticket in her pocket. The gold she'd had on her had been enough to buy basic supplies, and she'd traded in the dress for further bounty. She came out with a decent pair of lockpicks (even if she couldn't use them, she could learn somewhere along the way), a new pair of trousers and padded wool jacket (the cheapest armor they'd had, and all she could afford), and a simple but serviceable sword. A few practice swings in the store had demonstrated her ability with it as basic. Everything about her, it seemed, was unremarkable.

She gave a sigh, and glanced to the window on one side of her, examining again the reflection she saw. She was young, probably in her mid-twenties. Her hair was firey red, a single different thing amidst a sea of "ordinary" that she took solace in. Her hair went halfway down her back, and was currently tied back in a braid. Her height was midway between five and six feet, average and unremarkable. Kyrie examined her features. She was fair, but not gorgeous. She shook her head and looked away. Hopefully, answers would be at the end of the flight. Friends or family waiting for her, maybe.

Just then, she heard the whine of another engine outside, and an explosion rocked the ship. Kyrie's fellow passengers made various cries and sounds of alarm. She looked out the window, just as concerned, in time to see another, much smaller plane with an orc flying it, fly by, on fire. Kyrie hooked her arms into the railing on the wall beside her, bracing herself.

"Just find the boy! He will know what to do..." The gnome's voice faded, and his eyes fluttered closed.

"Hold on!" Kyrie yelled at him. "I'll get you some help, just hold on!" But too late. Kyrie didn't feel the desperate panic she'd have expected if this was the first death she'd witnessed; only an enforced calm. The gnome's speech burned itself into her memory, and she got a gut instinct that she was now the only survivor from the Zephyr. Her head snapped up as she heard someone approach the wreckage. Kyrie stood, and rested her right hand on the hilt of her sword.

"I can't believe it!" She heard him before she saw him clearly. His voice sounded young, and obviously shocked. He walked closer, and came into focus. He wore a hooded robe and carried a staff. He had tousled blond hair, and looked about her age. "I mean, you, and then the zepplin! And the fire! And the altar says that... do you have any idea what all this means?" She heard the excitement hidden in his voice. What could possibly be exciting about a crash? Kyrie thought, irritatedly. She gave a sigh, turned away from the now-dead gnome, stood and faced the man.

"What are you talking about?" Kyrie asked him, letting a little of her irritation creep into her voice. She barely survived a crash, and just watched the only other passenger alive, die in front of her, and here this young man was going on about an altar. When she spoke to him, his jaw dropped in clear shock.

"You speak!" He exclaimed, probably before thinking about the words. "I mean-of course you speak. What am I, a blithering idiot?" He muttered the last more to himself than her. "Wait! What did you say? Maybe I should be writing all of this down." He said then, his excitement coming back, and he fumbled in the pockets of his robe. Kyrie rubbed her forehead, feeling a headache coming on.

"I said it before, and I'll say it again; what are you talking about?" Kyrie spoke slowly and firmly, unable to help herself from giving a slight insult to his intelligence. He obviously missed the insult, though, as he began to wring his hands.

"I am at a loss here; I don't quite know what to do...uh...I mean, you are the...of course you are. I mean, you do know who you are, right? Of course you do, what sort of brainless, half-baked question is that for the, uh... what exactly do you call yourself?" Kyrie sighed again. Clearly, she would have to start the explaining before he would.

"Kyrie, and no, I don't know who I am. I woke up this morning in an inn in Caladon with the clothes on my back and a ticket for the IFS Zephyr. I figured, why not. Maybe flying to Tarant might get me some answers. Your turn; who are you, and what are you talking about?" Kyrie suppressed her irritation as she talked; it was becoming more and more clear to her that the young man in front of her was too flustered to think straight, so she tried to keep her tone calm and clear, hoping he'd pick up on it and start explaining himself.

"No memories? But that wasn't- right! Name!" He took a slow deep breath then, evidently responding to her projected calm. "My name is Virgil, madam. And I'm new to the Panarii religion, and I, uh-wait!" He stopped again, his calm evaporating a little, and knelt in front of her. "I … uh, hereby dedicate, no, uhm... commit my life to the Living One. I, Virgil, am at your service, madam." His stutter in word choice softened her a little. She was still confused and annoyed, but he was so earnest, she couldn't help but like him. But his swearing himself to her made no sense at all.

"Virgil, please. You really need to explain things." She told him, her tone still calm but firm.

"Yes, yes, of course." Virgil said, and stood. "You see, you're him!" Kyrie raised an eyebrow at the pronoun. Him? She thought, crossing her arms over her chest and giving him a not-quite-hostile look. Virgil hastily stuttered an explanation. "I mean, the, uh, reincarnation of, er, what's his name? I can never remember, and I'm always getting him mixed up with the other fellow, the bad one. You, uh, well, you know how all of these old elven names sound the same?" He gave an awkward chuckle, desperately hoping to defuse the situation. Kyrie couldn't help a slight smile, shook her head in amusement, and uncrossed her arms.

"Okay." Kyrie responded, no less confused. "You can start explaining anytime now."

"Yes, right. Uh, just give me a moment, here." Virgil responded awkwardly. He took a deep breath, then resumed speaking. "You see, the Panarii, that's the religion that was formed around the things that he said, I mean, the things that you said...oh, just forget it, let's just start at the beginning. Or, this beginning, since there's a lot more that came before this. You are th reincarnation of a powerful elf who the Panarii worship, and who's name is, uh..." Virgil trailed off, brow furrowed in thought. Kyrie gave a half-nod.

"Yes?" She prompted.

"Right, yes, the name...uh, wait! I remember something! 'The Living One will live again on wings of fire." No, wait, I think it says 'reborn on wings of fire.' Oh, blood and ashes! Why do elves always have to be so damned cryptic?" Virgil exclaimed in frustration. Kyrie suppressed a giggle; his confusion was a bit adorable. She forced herself to focus on what little he'd explained. He thought she was some kind of Living One? Well, she thought, it's certainly possible. I don't remember anything, so I could be anyone.

"Do the scriptures speak of a dying gnome and a ring?" Kyrie asked him. Virgil frowned, pondering the question.

"Hmm. I don't know about the ring. But this business about the evil one returning...as I've said, I don't know a lot about the Panarii prophecies, but I think you're supposed to return and fight someone evil. Bloody Hell!" His exclamation caught her by surprise that time. Just when she thought he'd calmed down. "I should know more of this." He paced to the side a little in an effort to vent his frustration.

"Virgil," Kyrie said calmly, trying to get his attention. "I really need to know the details." Virgil sighed.

"I know." He replied. "I'm sorry, but I am new to the Panarii religion. I need to bring you to meet my mentor, Elder Joachim. He can answer all your questions. He's staying in Shrouded Hills, a town at the base of these mountains."

"Who is he, exactly?" Kyrie asked, curious. Virgil fidgeted at the question, clearly uncomfortable.

"Joachim, well, gave me a hand when I needed it, showed me the truth of the Panarii and its beliegs. He is a very wise man, and will know what needs to be done." Kyrie nodded slowly.

"Okay. Let's go find this Elder Joachim." Virgil took a breath, and seemed to gather himself.

"Right. The path out of here is to the south; there's a shrine in front of it for the Panarii. We should take a look at the shrine; it might tell us more. Also, I think we should check the wreckage for more survivors. What do you think?"

Kyrie nodded. "Yes; I don't think anyone else survived, but we should look. Maybe we can find some clues about the crash, and who or what caused it. It might turn out to be important."

"Good idea." Virgil said. Kyrie started to join him, but her head was still a little woozy from the crash, and she accidentally banged her leg on a piece of twisted metal, hitting a deep cut on her leg she'd gotten as the zepplin went down. She hissed in sudden pain, and Virgil's face filled with concern. "Are you all right?" He asked her. Kyrie nodded.

"It's just a scrape from the crash. Nothing serious." Kyrie said, trying to mask the pain and weariness she felt. Virgil shook his head as if to clear it.

"What am I thinking? You were just in a crash! Here, I know a bit of healing. Let me check your over." True to his word, Virgil's hands were surprisingly gentle as they pulled up her pants leg to get a look at her wound. It wasn't life-threatening, but it was bad. Virgil hissed a little in sympathy, and then his hands glowed blue as Kyrie felt the tingle of his healing spell on her leg. Kyrie looked up, meeting his eyes, and gave a friendly smile as the wound closed.

"Thanks." Virgil hesitated a moment, his face inches from hers, then ducked his head, and, true to his word, looked her over for injuries. Once he finished, Virgil stood and offered her his hand, still not meeting her eyes. She took it and he hauled her to her feet.

"Okay," Kyrie said, filling the awkward silence that had somehow fallen between them. "Time to look for survivors."

"The altar should clear things up for us a bit!" Virgil exclaimed eagerly, and peered at the large stone tablet. "Let's see... 'and the spirit of Nasrudin shall be reborn on wings of fire in hills shrouded in fog, and fight the last battle with the evil one.'"

"Right." Kyrie responded. "So who's this evil one?" Kyrie asked, forcing herself to keep calm. Virgil took a deep breath, and slowly let it out.

"I'm sorry. I don't know." He chuckled a little. "I guess we should find out, since you're supposed to fight him." Kyrie didn't speak, but looked down and nodded, crossing her arms over her chest. Virgil touched her shoulder, getting her attention. "Come on. Let's find this wizard, so we can be done with it and find Elder Joachim." He smiled at her, but faint annoyance filled his voice. She gave a slight smile back at him in response. They walked out of the crash site, and Virgil shook his head.

"I don't know why you agreed to help him. Ghost or not, something wasn't right."

"Of course not." Kyrie responded. "He knows the location of a treasure but took a vow of poverty? And why was he killed? None of it makes sense. But he gave us a location to start with, and we can go there and find out what really happened. We just have to make sure we don't go there with swords drawn." Virgil smiled at her.

"Clever." Virgil admitted. Before Kyrie could respond, they spotted a new figure, cloaked and hooded and carrying a staff. He saw them, and changed his path to meet them with determination in his stride. Virgil touched her arm.

"No disrespect, madam, but let me handle this? I've dealt with bug- er, individuals like this before." Kyrie frowned, but the man was rapidly approaching, and she didn't have much time to think about it. What if Virgil was right, and the man was a threat. She took a breath, and nodded. "Thank you." Virgil said, looking a little bucked up by her confidence in him.

"Who are you?" The man called to them. "Did you come from the crash?"

Virgil challenged the question, and Kyrie listened in a surprise she kept carefully hidden at the confidence and threat in his tone and posture. Virgil almost gleefully agreed to the man's suggestion of violence, finally making him back down. With a final poisonous glare at Kyrie (what did I do? She wondered), he stalked back off into the wilderness. As soon as the man was out of sight, Virgil visibly deflated.

"Tha- that was close." Virgil said, obviously relieved. Kyrie blinked, surprised again.

"You seemed awfully confident back there." She pointed out.

"That man could easily have killed us both. I was just bluffing."

"Pretty convincing bluff." Kyrie pointed out, trying to compliment him. But Virgil looked uncomfortable, and shifted his weight.

"It was all bluster. I'm no bloody warrior, but sometimes you have to be able to act the part. You learn such things on the... well, it's just something I've learned. Fear is a powerful weapon. Something is very wrong here, though. I think we'd better get away from here as soon as possible." Virgil replied, probably eager to change the subject. Kyrie let it drop; she was curious, but Virgil was entitled to his privacy.

"Sure. Let's take care of this business with a curse, and then go to Shrouded Hills."


End file.
